


Trust

by mrspadrona



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Gen, Murder, Religious Fanaticism, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 03:44:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8355718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrspadrona/pseuds/mrspadrona
Summary: I don't know where this came from. It started life as a Supernatural drabble but ... it went kinda sideways on me.Who do sociopaths trust their worst secrets to?





	

There ain’t many things in this world you can trust. I know this from experience but you’ll have to figure it out on your own. My list? My list is easy:

1\. Familly – They can fuck you in a heartbeat if something better comes along

2\. Friends – They can stab you in the back while they kiss your ass

3\. Women – Half of them are so plastic, they might melt if you turn the heater on in the car too high. The other half … you can get a contact drunk if you kiss em on the mouth

4\. Booze – Sometimes it’s a 300 year old Scotch, other times, it’s bathtub rotgut

So that leaves a list of what DO I trust?

I trust blood.  
I trust knives.  
I trust my own hand.  
I trust my brother.  
  


I trust that when my hand is holding a knife at just the right angle and with just the right pressure, that sweet crimson flood will run out like the stickiest candy I ever laid my tongue on. I trust that when that blood flows, the terror and panic in the eyes of whichever whore was lucky enough to leave the bar with me that night will light up like a Christmas tree and she’ll wash away all my sins, like that whore who washed Jesus’ feet.

I trust that my brother will be waiting right beside me, his own hand on his own blade. I trust he’ll slither up against her neck and press the tip just against the hollow of her ear, right where I sucked a bruise with my mouth not even 10 minutes ago and he’ll use just enough force to release my confession to the world. 

I don’t trust much after growing up the way I did. I don’t trust police, they’ll just throw me in prison (again). I don’t trust family (not that I have much left after they all died “mysteriously”). I sure as fuck don’t trust the women that are drunk or stupid enough to leave a divebar with some guy they just met (no matter how devastatingly handsome I may be). 

I trust me and my brother. 

That’s all I’ve ever needed.

He absolves me of my sins and I feed his soulless desire to watch them bleed.


End file.
